


Free

by LibraLibrary



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, and rung can't handle it, happy valentines day you complimentary-schemed dorks, mtmte 49 spoilers, skids is a cute bastard, vague hinted-at headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraLibrary/pseuds/LibraLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post MTMTE 49. Skids and Rung discuss what comes next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free

**Author's Note:**

> I got slapped with a plot bunny in the middle of a shift and decided to get it down for Valentines and make my friend yell. OTP too strong. ;a;

“First you carry me away from the monster, then you turn up here. Have we swapped roles, Eyebrows?”

Rung glanced over his shoulder, contemplative expression melting away into a relieved grin. “Skids. So Chromedome managed to-”

“Lock up the demons? Yep,” the outlier replied, tapping his helm with a knuckle on his free hand as he took a seat next to the ex-therapist, “back to as-close-to-normal-as-possible, for awhile at least.”

Skids cracked open a can of engex and held it out, and for the first time in a long time, Rung didn’t hesitate to accept it. Not like he had anywhere else to be. Before he could steel himself for a gulp of the sharp-tasting drink, a packet of energon sweets dropped into his lap. He could almost feel the smirk on his former patient’s face as he gratefully tore open the bag and dropped a few sticks into the can, stirring idly. “You’re the best of us, Skids.”

“Eh, I’ll agree to a tie.”

The pair sat on the edge of the reservoir in silence, sipping their drinks and pretending the past few hours hadn’t happened. Every now and then, they’d hear muffled footsteps and shouts out in the hall, as friends and crewmates came out of hiding and regrouped, but nobody ever investigated the reservoir, too busy excitedly hurrying to Swerve’s to hear the story of ‘bots turned inside out and the little waste disposal ‘bot who saved the day.

The general atmosphere of the ship was triumphant; so it should’ve been. Still, there was a tension in Rung’s shoulders that would refuse to vacate the psychiatrist’s frame, at least not until the elephant in the room had been addressed…

“Would I be right in assuming...word of my resignation is spreading?”

Skids, resting on his back, savored a mouthful before answering. “Slowly, but yeah. Everything’s a bit confused right now, more hearsay and rumors than anything.”

Rung sighed deeply, nervously tapping at the tip of one partially dissolved energon stick. He did not look forward to clearing up all the misconceptions. And all those appointments he’d have to cancel, patients left with so little accomplished…

And Skids among them.

“I’m sorry,” Rung murmured, curling over his drink, “just when we were starting to make such progress-”

A warm hand gripped his shoulder, and Skids grunted as he sat up behind him. “Hey now, don’t go beating yourself up over this. You put me on the right track, at the very least. In fact, I remembered a bit further on my own earlier.”

Rung looked up from his can, adjusting his glasses in surprise. “You did?”

Skids’s smile could heat the entire ship for a year. “I did. And I think I’d much rather discuss it with a friend, if he’s available.”

A friend. Not a doctor, just…a friend. God, did he love the sound of that. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed being able to call the theoretician “friend” before “patient”. He raised his drink, smiling placidly between sips. “I’ll have to recheck my calendar, but I think I’m free.”

The word “free” felt so right on his glossa. He meant it. Whatever came next, however much it hurt to tear himself out of his status quo, he had made the choice himself. And with all the pain came freedom. 

“No appointments,” he breathed reverently, relishing the idea that he wouldn’t dread being late anymore.

“No set sessions,” Skids added helpfully, and Rung chuckled.

“No files.”

“No recordings.”

“No professional-”

Rung stopped himself short, so caught up in the moment he hadn’t even noticed…

Skids grinned down at him, finishing the thought for him. “Relationships?”

Rung snapped his head back down, peering into his half empty can and wondering exactly how long it would take search crews to find him if he jumped into the oil and hid at the bottom for a few days. Still, he managed to murmur a reluctant “Perhaps…”

He tried to fool himself, tried to pretend he had be referring to casual friendships, that he certainly hadn’t just made himself look like he was eager to charge back into (into, haha, as if he’d ever been) the dating scene. But it was so hard to play it off, with Skids still flashing that damned charming smile at him!

That same beautiful, lovely smile that he had woken up to after weeks of darkness, the final image of a window shattering from the force of a projectile giving way to the warmest, sweetest welcome…

Rung wasn’t exactly sure when Skids had put his arm around his shoulders, nor when he had leaned into the hold, but it wasn’t helping matters. The former doctor sucked a big gasp of air through his gritted dentals, flushing. “God, I’m a fool.”

Skids chuckled as the smaller ‘bot slipped out from under his arm, humoring him. “Oh? And why is that?”

The orange mech hugged himself, rising to his feet and pacing. “Because I’m considering it!”

“And that’s a problem?”

Rung threw his hands up in the air, a wordless protest to whatever deity had dropped this infuriatingly amicable outlier into his life. He didn’t try to feign ignorance, he knew exactly what Rung was considering (and welcomed it, something in the back of his mind shouted against the storm), but god, could he really be so oblivious? “Maybe? This is a bit sudden, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe for you, but I was conscious the whole time.”

If Rung wasn’t in the middle of a impassioned rant, trying to evaluate every pro and con of the looming question, he would’ve appreciated the wittiness immensely. He filed it in the back of his mind for later, currently focusing on furiously rubbing an imagined stain out of his glasses. “I mean right now! This, right here, this moment! Skids,” he nearly shouted in a stressed, wavering voice, “you were my patient yesterday!”

Skids rested his cheek in his hand, sitting crisscross by the reservoir and grinning. “Yeah, and I loved you yesterday too.”

“Exactly! And-”

The words finally sunk in, and Rung would’ve tripped over his dropped cleaning cloth had he not stopped dead in his tracks.

“...I…you...you just said…”

Skids hauled himself up onto his feet, striding confidently over to the frozen mech before taking a knee and retrieving the fallen cloth. He handed it over, and Rung numbly, automatically, accepted it without a word and stored it, before craning his neck to meet the larger Autobot’s gaze.

The reservoir was perfectly silent, and the halls outside were completely empty. For all the pair knew, the ship had stopped moving, everyone else had vanished, time again was once more collapsing into a single moment in a long history that was otherwise meaningless.

Finally, without looking, Rung tapped his right thumb, maintaining the most intense eye contact of his life. “Say it again.”

Skids took the hand with no hesitation, pushing the side of his face into it, and Rung had a moment to marvel over his automatic response: gently stroking the warm cheek with his thumb. 

Time slowed again, and everything came surging back: his gangly arms wrapped around a stronger frame as they descended the air vents, heavy but gentle hands picking him up off the floor as he tried to regain his bearings, hours in the bar exploring and sharing the tiniest details of whatever ship he had brought out that day, an inebriated but friendly outlier leaning on him as they departed from last call…

And the day he decided it would be worth losing all that, if it meant he could help solve the   
mystery of his friend’s (love’s, no more kidding himself, too late for that) past.

Skids leaned his cheek into Rung’s hand, optics lidded peacefully.

“I love you, brightspark.”

Even with his memories returned to their proper place behind a slowly deconstructed barrier, Skids was fairly certain nothing had ever caught him more off guard than the willowy orange mech crashing into him, arms tossed around his neck and holding on like he was afraid of falling. It took absolutely no thought to reciprocate the embrace, and he chuckled, one hand massaging Rung’s shoulder blades. “Wanted proof that this is happening?”

Rung nuzzled his face into the theoretician’s neck, barely able to restrain a fit of glee. “Proof for myself; I’ll listen to that memo a million times over.”

They pulled back a bit, and Skids leaned his head forward to rest his helm against Rung’s own. “You won’t need it. If you ever want a reminder, you just have to ask.”


End file.
